


Care to Dance?

by Shadowolf18



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Crossdressing, Dancing, Jealousy, M/M, POV Alternating, Self-Hatred, Stars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowolf18/pseuds/Shadowolf18
Summary: Dancing has always been a past time for Alex, but he's never considered the matter of what to dance in.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38





	1. The Dress

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mini-series.  
> I hope you enjoy it because it was kind of emotional to write. I was a little inspired by The Danish Girl on Netflix, it's a really good film and you should go watch it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gets a little tipsy and discovers something about himself.

Alex was always fond of watching ballet dancers, they just seemed to paint a picture so bright it made him smile. Each dress overlapped one another until there were one. The simplicity of such a complex song from the heart gave him the energy to never tire with his writings. For he danced using ink and scroll, his own design of routine. Not quite as flashy, for he weeped upon a lesser preformance. Yet, there was no doubt about it, his fame would come from the page. 

Still, he never did tire of ballet, studying it in his free time, (the little he did have) visiting stages when he needed a break from work, sometimes even wishing to try it himself. 

He was a tomcat, one with many conquests, each of them paired with a ballad across the dancefloor. But, as of late, being a gentleman tired him, he wished simply to be treated with care, seen for what he was, not what he could do for others.

As he thinks, he drowns in liquor. The expensive kind, the cheap kind, the brash kind, the hard kind, any kind really. Until he isnt Hamilton anymore, just a drunk. This drunk goes out on a dark night in 1779 and falls into the back room of a bridal store, sleeping his worries away.

The light pours in through the window and he wakes, a splitting headache to accompany his confusion. Suddenly, he has to be Hamilton again and he's not a big fan of it.

The room he chose to sleep in was slightly cluttered, filled with dresses of all shapes and sizes and colors. There were shoes and jewels and makeup of all sorts. It took Alex fifteen seconds to realize where he was and fourty-five to realize the door was locked. 

This unfortunate predicament had led him to be impatient, for who knows how long before someone found him. So he sits and wonders for hours. He hadn't bothered to see what times the store operates nor had he eaten anything for some time. These were minescule, above all he was exceedingly BORED. 

He went through the dresses and found they were sorted by design and size. He found most to be quite eye-catching, but gasped as he discovered a certain hem and trim.

The black lace went from its golden dusted sleeve ends to the collar, where a milk white fold defined. The pearl stiching was visible and it was blue all over, like the ocean waves, crashing and whirling from end to end. Around the waist it tightened to display a pattern of yellowed feathers, dyed to an ombre blue and black from the hips down. It was the most goregous thing Alex had ever seen, clearly way ahead of its time.

The achohol might've still been in his system, and if you would ever ask him, he'd blame it on that posibility, the crazy thought that came from seeing such astonishment:

_I have to try it on_

He was never one for cross dressing or anything of the sort, but the idea just hit him like a ton of bricks.

He did just that.

Undressing himself bit by bit, grabbing a corset from the nearest table and trying desperately to tie it up from his front. He slipped into the indigo wonder, barely able to figure out its many layers without ripping anything. Alex thought it might be hard to fit around his broad shoulders but it wasn't. In fact, it fit him like a glove with the exception of having trouble tying it up himself in the back.

He stared in the mirror, breathless with what he saw. And then, he needed something else

So he pulled out his pony tail 

_And then just one more thing_

He put on matching flats

_And then a little more_

He slid into grey stockings

_And a dash some_

He put on a shimmering necklace, guarded by a tiny blue jay in the center

_And then a bit of_

He added some powder and lipwash to the best of his ability

_And stepped back_

_It was . . . beautiful_

**_He was beautiful_ **


	2. The Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The things we want keep us grounded, the things we need may sweep us away.

The thought of looking slightly like a woman was never something that crossed his mind before. He'd been quite upset with his body from time to time but never in this way, so he came to a conclusion that:

He simply liked to dress up.

The look was nice, no matter how shameful it might've been to enjoy it, he couldn't possibly imagine anyone else seeing him this way. It is enough to ruin his name let alone get him judged for most likely the rest of his life. People are close-minded he thought, there's no point and he might as well change back. So, leaving everything just as he'd found it, he once again became socially acceptable. But when the amused store clerk unlocked to door to let him out after a very accusing conversation of how he ended up there, Alex could not but help to take the necklace. If nothing else, a reminder to stay sober.

He found himself writing back home at noon, headache mostly gone but not forgotten. The necklace had been burning a hole in his pocket since he left. He'd been invited to a lot of soirees lately and didn't want to get behind on his work. Those left of the former war troops had promised to have one night at the Schyler's before heading their separate ways. But that wasn't for a few weeks, tonight, he pledged to see another show with his four closest friends until one of them got sent an alligator. Unfortunately, they still had the tickets even if two had to stay behind to make sure it didn't eat children unattended. This being the case only John would accompany him to the famous performance of Don Quixote. Laf had really been looking forward to it but insisted they go to tell him all about it. 

Alex had insisted meeting there rather than using the same carriage because it meant he could take his own route, passing by the dress shop, entering it on a pure whim. The bell had rung notifying the clerk he was there, only this time, it was a woman. She started polite, no matter how unusual it was to see a man, unaccompanied, in a dress boutique. "What can I help you with good sir?" "Well, I'm-" he started off once he realized he didn't know what he was looking for, he didn't even know what he was doing. All he knew was that he **needed** to feel beautiful again. 

So rather than face his truth, he forced one: "My wife has sent me to buy an outfit for her as a question of how well I know her, and I'm not really sure where to start." Thank goodness news travels slow and she hadn't recognized him, full-well knowing he wasn't married. "Alright, well, we can start with her size. Do you know it?" 

**Fuck.**

He didn't know the first thing about actual dresses, he came here on a whim and was still ambling pointlessly. "I can guess once I see one!" He tried to sell the confidence with a chuckle and that signature smile he'd been told stole hearts. "Ah well, If you want my advice, get her something that might be smaller than she is, that way she won't be mad if it doesn't fit." It seemed to have worked. "Good thinking ma'am." She then led him through rack after rack of dresses, each of them more and more elegant than the last. He was constantly interrupted by his own thoughts of **I'd look lovely in that** or **I wonder if I could pull that one off** and felt like internally screaming when he couldn't try them all.

He then saw it, the same deep blue dress on a display case, the one he'd basked in the night before, there, in all its glory.

"May I purchase this one?" He spoke, breathe tethered and anxious. "Oh, my apologies sir, that one is a jewel and one of a kind, it is spoken for." He was too determined to give up now, he **had to have it.** "I'll pay double." "I'm sorry, the buyer is very esteemed and I wouldn't want to upset the customer. The only way I could sell it to you is if you could convince them to allow me." His hopes were crushed, never again would he feel so whole. Then again, he couldn't help but ask "Who's the buyer?"

"It's under the name of Angelica Schyler, sir."


	3. The Schyler Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When an angry bull is met with a skilled matador, neither loses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really tired and also yes I know mirrors weren't invented until 1835 and Angelica never worked in a book store but for the sake of plot convenience we will pretend those things happened.

Of course. It just had to be the worst possibility ever. Among all the things he thought to happen, here he was, standing in front of the book market where he knew she'd be.

Angelica Schyler was headstrong for a woman. He admired her for that, but he'd never truly had a run-in with her. He'd heard things, of course, everyone had, but he's never the fool to believe anything he hears. She had taken up bookkeeping to prove a point. Scoring a job even when she didn't need to work considering all her father's profit, especially one that was next to impossible for a female to land in this day and age. So, he went in with respect. (which if he was being completely honest, not many of the ladies he met had received) There she was, signing something that looked important, sitting on a chair that seemed all too uncomfortable.

She met his gaze after he shifted with a slight clear of his throat to make his presence known. "What do you want?" She then took an exaggerated double-take, standing up whilst slamming her quill on the desk. "Do my eyes deceive me? Is that Hamilton? What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be drinking your guts out in celebration?" Ah, of course, she'd recognize him, that would make things difficult. So naturally, he went back to his defaults. Batting his lashes, pretending he was already in the marvel ensemble, carrying a smug smirk across his features: "Whatever do you mean? I love to read in spare time, especially when it means coming face-to-face with a wonderful darling like you."

Then, she just laughed. Broke out into a ringing giggle and for a harsh second, Alexander thought she'd gone mad. "That routine may work on most, but I won't buy it like an idiot. I can read you like one of my many stories, Hamilton. You want something from me." Well now Alex had two options: abandon hope and let fate take its course. Run away and forget all about the dress, perhaps even make it on time to the show. 

Or, he could stay and play with fire.

The choice was obvious.

"You caught me, I'm here for a dress." This caught her off guard. "A dress? Why in god's name would _you_ need a _dress_? And what are you even on about?" At this, he could not back out. "There is a dress I need to buy at the boutique down at the street's end, and it's reserved under your name." he knew he could not lie to her. She'd figure it out.

"Oh, that? You can have it. My father picked it out, and I think it's rather dull on me anyhow." Although he'd never admit it, he was jumping for joy. At last, the precious thing would be his to keep forever. "You won't inquire about why?" he went on even when his mouth should've shut, he couldn't ever help getting the last word. "I don't care what you do with it, I just have one condition." **Of course** "Come to the ball next month" She then handed him a slip of paper with her signature, allowing her release on the product. A party? He could do that "Alright, I'll see you there" He left with a wink and a smile, feeling Angelica's eyes roll from the doorway.

He raced back to the boutique, quickly buying the dress and everything from before. He couldn't help squealing like a little girl until he saw his mirror. Dread hit him, he got undressed so slow that it washed over bit by bit. 

**_His scars were everywhere._ **

He' never really taken the time to look at them before, most being from the war and they didn't really hold reflections as a priority. But still . . .

_They were hideous. burn marks from gunpowder, a few scratches from where he'd been kicked or punched. Still some bruises. He traced his hands over each of these and began to wonder-_

**_What else is wrong?_ **

**_His shoulders were too small_ **

**_His hair was so strained_ **

**_He had such big hips, not really masculine at all_ **

**_He had too much fat_ **

**_He had pretty pathetic muscles_ **

**_He was gross and ugly and he hated it._ **

**_He hated all of it._ **

At that moment, he wanted a different body, he wanted to be someone else. A muscular solider with wide shoulders and healthy strands, one with hips that stopped at his waist, one with abs and confidence. But there was only one escape. Even though he hated what he saw, he _could_ make it better, he _**would**_ make it better. His act began, costume and all. But this time, he shaved and put on perfume, and truly began to believe what he had become. And sure, his chest was flat, and that might've been how he managed to fuck up this body too, but he still looked _**beautiful.**_

He wanted this to last forever, and then he remembered:

**_John_ **


	4. The Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the POV change and a little mystery. Also, I fully support the fact that women don't need men to take care of them but in this time period it's common to think such, and John was just trying to be nice.

There was a shadowy figure downtown, walking with the weight of a thousand men. Calloused hands pressed to its sides, from gripping rifles a little too hard. Scared to let go, but who wouldn't be? He waltzed by moonlight, with a few lamps on a quiet street the only thing to guide it. Wrapped in layers against the cold and covered in angel kisses, tears began to fall. Over hazel eyes and a hurricane of freckles, over a tingling neck and even through a bare chest wasteland. The only thing more stinging than the wind was the reason he was in it. 

This shadow cried and cried until it became a man. Ghosted by the stars, these features became so strong they turned out to be real. They'd planned to meet at the tavern, grab a bite to eat and then head to the theater, but the coincidence was cruel. So Laurens kept walking, on and on, he never stopped, he circled the square eight times before he was interrupted by another shadow, this one seemed even heavier.

A woman? Walking through the town alone? At night? That was strange, and John had half the mind to walk over and make sure she was alright. It was never that he thought she couldn't handle herself, he was never the man to think that. But something about puking his feelings the hour prior led him to be overwhelmingly emotional towards any living thing around him. So, with the best possible intentions, he walked up to her, friendly and spirited. Well, as happy as he could pretend to be after having his heart crushed to splinters.

"Hello miss, are you alright?" He smiled towards her turned head, sleek brown hair framing the corners of her skull frame. She seemed to be very wary of him, and gave a long pause, perhaps in confusion, before starting to talk. "Yes, I'm alright, just a little nervous." She frowned as if she hadn't meant that last part to get out. It was weird, without knowing her John felt they were comfortable with each other. "Is that why you're out here all alone?" At this, she smirked: "I'm on my own terms tonight, sir." Then, a stunning, crazy idea struck John, one he'd never have considered without this stranger.

"I have two tickets to a show. If your not busy, perhaps you'd like to join me?" She contemplated it a bit more than necessary but finally uttered "Yes." The answer felt so forced, he was about to say forget it altogether. But some peculiar fondness of her deep within him celebrated, and it confused him more than ever. 

He held out his arm for her to grasp and led her down the quiet street, towards the famed theater house with the bid framed columns.

Throughout the show, they accidentally touched hands when resting their arms, at first, John thought nothing of it, but afterward, when they stood up to congratulate the final bow, their hands slipped into each other. And John felt _something._ It was over the second it happened but John felt _something. Something he'd never ever felt for a woman before. It amazed and terrified him._ He decided on dismissing it and in taking her home.

He led her out of the doors, along with the other hushed crowd, as not very many visit the great stage this late. But they only got so far.

"I'd rather take myself from here," she said, firm as a tree trunk planted in the ground. Rather than questioning her, John continued to walk in the direction they were going.

_He didn't. say. a word._

The soul of something beautiful began to fill the air, the sound echoed on the pavement, the smell was one any good soldier would know. That, of a party. The clinking of glasses in a tavern, the slight tip-tap of boots on the ground, a tell-tale sign of the one thing John could stand during social hour.

_Dancing~_

Faster than anything you've ever seen, he swooped up the nameless woman and dragged her all along the road into the crack in the wall where such delight emerged. It was fairly clean as beat up bars go, and people were dancing tirelessly. John was in heaven, all around him there were dim golden lights and smiles and the comfort of others. For the first time that night, he didn't feel alone. He then turned to the mystery before him, selecting a lily from the display counter. "You are most lovely when you enjoy yourself, madam." He fit the flower perfectly in her hair. Her face lit pink and she hid behind her sleeve. "May I have this dance?" He extended his arm out for her to grab in a folding manner, almost falling over, barely able to contain his excitement over the beauty. He dipped his head and prayed for a yes.

"You may," she said matter-of-factly and took his hand in hers.

John thought that the one thing about finding places like this is that they tend to play faster 'have a good time' folk music, rather than a slow and smooth waltz. While he wasn't opposed to this, he assumed it was better to live in the moment, and that meant all the energy he could spare. He laughed and laughed, spinning her around and around, as if he'd done this a thousand times before.

Out of breath, John uttered, "What is your name?" She looked side-to-side thoughtfully like she had to think about it "Alice." He immediately fell, and she stumbled into his arms once more "John"

"Well, this has been an evening." she swept herself back into the rhythm of things "That it has." They circled once more until the dancers called for a switch, which landed John with a new subject. He was thoroughly unprepared for this and almost lost his balance upon linking arms with another lady. A few friendly smiles later, the gentleman gave a kiss on the cheek, as did he, and they were swept away again. He looked around the room for Alice only to fall into the profile of what was recognizably _not_ a woman.

He still danced and was briefly reminded of his favor for men with a blushing kiss on the cheek and a sudden tightness in his pants. Thinking back to Alice only made it worse. He left the dancefloor, head churning from alcohol and spinning too much. Alice found her way back out of the tavern, and he amped to follow her after regaining his balance for what felt like the hundredth time that night. But once he followed her out onto the street, he took a look around and-

_**Alice had simply vanished.** _


	5. Silent Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starry skies and second thoughts. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I singled out the dialogue, sorry. And for the thousandth time, I know it isn't accurate. No there was no military academy or class preferences or telescope but uh- PLOT CONVENIENCE!

Back here again, it was like a time-loop, a never-ending occurrence. At least it brought balance to his weight. At least this served as a constant in his life. The alcohol served as a backrest, somewhere he could rest his tired mind and get him to stop thinking for a while. To stop writing for a bit. To stop breathing for a minute or two. It was his cradle, and sure, most would say he had a problem, but then. 

**Who didn't these days?**

Time had passed, the ball was growing closer and closer, and Alex couldn't tell whether he was getting more and more excited or more and more nervous. Laf and Herc would be coming to town next week, and he'd needed to set his place up. After all, he hadn't had guests in forever. But first, more documents, as they drove his days, his nights, his life.

He felt bad for skipping out on John in the theatre so he blamed it on falling asleep while working, (as he was known to do) and invited him to another outing tonight. This time, it'd be less extravagant, but something he'd know Laurens would enjoy. They'd both fought for top of the class at the military academy, with John beating him in Science and his efforts exploding in Social Studies. They had their strengths. But one thing he'd held onto over the years was Astronomy, specifically, stars. Alex had always joked about why he'd want to gaze up when he had enough right on his face. Alex has to admit, he's been jealous of those beautiful freckles since they met. They tend to attract a _lot_ of women. John would even find it overwhelming at times, this being when Alex came in to 'clean up' as it's said.

Alex had tucked away from the outfit carefully after it's use, he didn't want it getting any dirtier, it was all he had. He didn't want to lose it. He didn't want to lose that part of himself. It'd had felt so good that Alex had to tear himself away from the thought of putting it back on for the time passed. 

Alex had been gifted an old telescope years ago, which had been collecting dust, so he decided to gift it to John, wondering if he'd enjoy it. The object would accompany them on a star charting, a simple pastime for the educated. 

Then, off he went into the night, picking the nearest carriage with a white horse, for no reason in particular.

"Where to?"

"The very edge of town, near the docks."

"Alright, looking for a nice stroll?"

"No, star charting."

"Ahh, I see, well nice night, sir"

"Thank you kindly."

Alex was usually constantly annoyed that he hadn't been recognized for his work in public as of late, but tonight, he was more relieved.

"Alex!"

John's greeting ended in a warm smile and a firm hug around the shoulders.

"It's nice to see you, been a while."

"Yes, well, I don't get out much."

"Is that-"

He stops and sniffs the air surrounding them 

"Perfume? What have you been doing?"

 _ **Cross-dressing**_ "Behaving well enough"

There was a dash of disbelief in John's eyes.

"I hope so, but if not, invite me next time."

Alex hadn't heard another human laugh for quite some time, it was nice. And it even made him regret all his recent time spent alone.

"What's this?" 

He gestured to the telescope, wrapped under a spare tarp he'd brought to engage suspense. 

"A gift"

"Why?"

"Just because, well, because I felt guilty."

"You could always apologize instead."

The hopeful smirk had John thinking he would. 

"Nah, this way is more fun."

He pulled the tarp, taking dust with it, making both men cough to reveal the marvel. 

"I'm sorry it's not brand new, but lightly used items have more character, right?"

"John, Jo-"

A second tighter hug, but this time,

_Around the waist._

He faltered and smiled wide, back at Alex who couldn't help but giggle.

"It's beautiful." **_You're beautiful_**

"Let's set it up."

"Alexander." He couldn't help it, he was caught up in the moment, the gift, it all made his heart swell.

"Yes?"

"Do yo-ou, d-do you-" ** _love me?_**

"Do I... "

"Even remember how to do this?" **_Laugh it off_**

Alex chuckled and put together the telescope, kneeling into the eyeglass, looking up into the sky. His finger wrapped around it and pointed it left, upward, trying to find constellations,

"You did forget."

"I did not."

"You're supposed to start with the North star and use it as a reference point."

"That's what I'm doing."

"Are you sure?"

_"Yes."_

"Then why are you looking South?"

"I am not-

John grabs his hand and gently moves the telescope towards the right, guiding it to the shining star.

-looking."

_A sigh_

"South."

He got up and saw it without the scope. John smirk was smugger than it had ever been before.

"Shut up."

He giggled.

From then on, they spent hours pointing out stars and planets, atlases and moons, anything in the sky. They made a complete chart of the night, put together by John's artistic skills and Alex's flawless handwriting. Then, out of pure exhaustion, they laid down to just look with eyes of wonder. 

"Do you ever think there are people out there, just like you and me?"

"I'm not sure."

"Do you think they'd ever come here, try and confuse folks, try and replace us?"

"I'm not worried."

"Why's that?"

"There's no duplicating you, it's impossible."

They both smiled.

A thought came to mind. He scooted closer

"What are you doing?"

"Alex, I think, I think I'm in love"

"Really?" His eyes lit up and were filled with immediate interest

_**And that hurt.** _

"Who is she?"

_**Of course, there's that.** _

**_Might as well_ **

"Her name's Alice."

Alex's eyes widened

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, I just, know her, I recognize the name."

"I didn't say her last name."

"Small town."

"Alex, It's New York."

"Still, uncommon name."

"Well she's amazing, we went dancing and we went to the theater, we had a lot of fun and it was lovely the whole time I held her hand!"

"I've never heard you talk about anyone like that."

"Well, she's special."

Alex didn't know what was wrong, but suddenly he had trouble breathing and felt a little angry. He was jealous, jealous of- _**What?**_

_**A nice relationship, I want what they might have.** _

_**That's it.** _

"Well if she means that much to you, I hope you get to marry her. I want to love my wife like that when it happens to me too."

He got up, getting away from the telescope and handing it over to John, they walked back through the docks, ending the tiny venture.

The whole way home, John felt conflicted.

He loved them both. 

Alice was just so kind and sweet.

Alex was just so charming and passionate.

Not like it was ever a choice, Alex would always be his true love, nothing could change that.

But maybe he'd be one of the lucky ones. Maybe he'd get a second try, maybe he wouldn't suffer a broken heart forever.

_**Oh, how wrong he was. . .** _


	6. Crimes and Consultation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes having a train of thought isn't all it's cracked up to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sleep deprived and if my writing skill has decreased I'm sorry. I love this story and I want all of those who read it to feel loved. So hey you random stranger, I love you. And if you're reading this from 10 pm to 6 am. GO TO SLEEP! 😉

It had arrived, and no one could stop it. It was deafening, it was deadly. It was an inescapable unspeakable horror, and it could not be contained.

It was social contact.

A party, for rich people. Rich, closed-minded people. 

But somehow he was confident.

He had to be.

Alex needed a sense of direction, having always been a bachelor, he'd usually just flirt with everyone. But. Not tonight, tonight he had a goal. Stay hidden, lie low and enjoy yourself. Because if he let anyone notice his presence too much, all hell would break loose. He did it. He manage to fuck up yet another thing. He stole. He stole heels and more scents and a dress and he didn't know why. Well, he knew why he wanted them, he just didn't know why he stole.

_His mind went back to the day before._

He still hated his body.

He'd been frustrated with that fact and couldn't let it go, no matter how hard he tried not to think of it.

He was feminine, and he couldn't change that.

It **saddened** him.

It **angered** him.

He worked so hard to keep those feelings locked up and out of the picture, he was ashamed and exhausted from fighting the whole ordeal and he couldn't take it anymore.

_**He exploded.** _

Alex had headed to a different dress shop that day, something with a more run-down feeling. The independent business sat on the corner leading to town square and a private road off into the woods, god knows what lurks there. Alex has heard stories, legends, about crimes and ghosts and whispers in those trees. 

It was a quaint place, owning even less stock than the other, but having a much better selection Alex thought. He waltzed into the palace and demanded to be shown the jewelry. Now, having done his research, he knew this meant the worker would need to go fetch the key to allow him to have a look at the trinket cabinet. He up and took everything that glittered in his eyes.

He ran. He ran so hard and far he was halfway home before he stopped, having lost his lungs and heart somewhere along the way. He decided if he ever stole again, he would consider military shoes rather than boots. He then called a carriage, ponying enough money to where no questions were asked. 

The second everything thing had been neatly stored, and not a moment after:

_*knock* *knock *knock*_

A loud voice echoed through the door-frame, cut by harsh cradles of France.

"IF THE REASON YOU DECIDED TO SKIP OUT ON US AT THE CARRIAGE STATION IS ANYTHING OTHER THEN IMMEDIATE DEATH, I'LL DO IT MYSELF!"

He ran to the door with an excited grin, nearly tripping over his own rug in haste.

"LAF!"

He assumed he'd be the aggressive one, but was tackled and outweighed by two strong hugs and baguette breath in his face. 

"Ah! I thought you forgot we existed lion."

"I'm sorry, I would never, I've just been so busy."

"You always are, Alex" Herc smiled down at him.

"I promise to drop it the whole time you're here."

"Of course you will, Mon ami, you don't have a choice!"

Alex laughed. They were as life-saving as he remembered. So joyful and full of light.

Alex could use some light right now.

Still, there's no way he could confess anything to them, it's too embarrassing, unthinkable.

He'd just have to stay quiet.

So 24 hours went by and the banquet's deadline loomed. The morning of, the three of them went to get suits polished and tampered. 

John later joined then for tea at noon, and seeing him after his confession sent a jolt through Alex's spine, which was still a wonder, he was genuinely confused why. 

Then the time came, they carted there in a horse-pull, and greeted General Schuyler at the door, being invited in. This time, Alex was recognized, but nobody seemed to know about the stealing, so his tension eased as the night went on. After the first ten minutes, he got his first drink, meeting the group back at the bar to discuss ladies and dance partners and sex and such. All of this sickened Alex, because he could not bear the thought of someone else seeing him look ugly. And still, his mask was ever so deceitful that night. He found to be enjoying himself, perhaps due to the alcohol he learned to lean on or the steady flow of things or John's quiet conversation.

"Are you going to make a move on anyone, I know how much you love dancing." John gestured to the crowds of people.

"I could say the same for you." Alex had shaken countless hands that night.

"I'm just not in the mood, but I don't mind this, just relaxing with a beer and your company."

"Neither do I." He thought about things for a moment, pondering his next words.

"What about Alice? Do you think she'd show up to this?" John seemed to shut himself off after that. He fucked it up, again.

"I don't think it this is her scene."

Alex laughed. John looked at him fondly.

"Is it yours?"

"I can manage." Another drink, another smile.

"Alex, about that night."

He looked up from his drink, swirling around as he shook the glass.

"I meant to tell you something."

Alex looked puzzled

"What is it?"

"I think I-, well I have-

Just then, the world went silent. Everything changed.

And all Alex saw was. . . 

_**Her.** _


	7. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes panic strikes where it's unwanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry about the wait, I don't even have an excuse this time, I've just been lazy and inspiration didn't hit me for a while. I skipped all the conversations from the script. Let's face it you know exactly how they went and I wanted to save you some time. And if anyone cares in like 2065, this was written during the time of the CARONA panic. Stay safe and healthy you guys! (but this chapter might hurt.)

From that moment on, things had changed. No one could deny how beautiful Eliza was, anyone that happened to call her ugly was either lying or had very poor judgment. John knew this was true, and he also knew everyone's head would turn when she and her siblings walked in. He also knew to be rich and hosting made them priority number one in this room. 

What he didn't know was how long Alex was planning to stare at her.

But he counted to ten, and after that it was evident.

The feeling sunk like a rock deep in his stomach, like the ground was breaking beneath him. His legs became jello and his mouth was sandpaper. His eyes followed Alex, walking across the room without a second thought. It was like time itself had slowed. Suddenly everything was really loud and scary. His heart was all he could hear, his panic was all he could feel, alcohol was all he could smell, sweat was all he could taste, and Alex was all he could see.

_It was over._

That one thought almost led him to tears

And he knew better than to cry, he always had.

He fled the building so fast it felt as if he was back on the battlefield, soaked in blood and mourning for those he was too weak to carry.

He ended up on the porch, near the garden, out of view of anyone and wet from the rain. 

There was a physical pain near his shoulder and he looked down expecting to see blood or a bruise from running into something he was too bewildered to notice, only to gaze and find nothing, only to realize that pain. . .

_**was his broken heart.** _

* * *

She was lovely and Alex had been captivated by her beauty.

He'd heard things, but nothing could prepare him for their real interaction. He forgot about John and drinks and Alice and just walked over to talk to her. She smiled and started to hide behind her fan. He told her she looked much more gorgeous with is out of the way of her face. She smiled, blushed, and moved it away to return to the cozy confines of her undergarments. Alex found himself for the first time, discussing with a woman at a gathering without the slightest intention of getting in her pants.

Whether that was on account of his murder via her father or of his sudden infatuation he couldn't decipher.

They went on and on, and surprisingly, were never interrupted by others. It was a peaceful evening, up until Eliza asked him to dance.

Not only had it caught him off guard that she would ask to dance with him, (as was per usual the man would ask for the lady's hand) she also gave him and wink and pulled him out onto the dance floor without waiting for his answer.

Typically Alex wouldn't have a problem with this, but she put her arm upon his shoulder to begin, which made him think about how narrow they were, and about how weak his arms were. Then she stepped too close and he could feel her corset under her dress slide on his side, which made him want to wear his.

It took him a moment to get his head on straight and to dance, but then felt more enclosed at every note of the violin.

The little whispers

_**Run away** _

_**Be different** _

_**Be better** _

_**This is ugly** _

He just hated this state, this agony of being trapped within his own head. He told himself to let it go, he shouted, he screamed within his mind to just be a man and enjoy the dance, to not think about it, but the little voice persisted.

_**Ugly** _

_**Unwanted** _

_**Unneeded** _

_**Unloved** _

_**"Why would I want a son!"** _

_Alex heard the door slam, and scream after wretched scream from his mother. He was back there, in that pit of desperation and hate_

_He was drowning, drowning, and couldn't swim._

**_But he could run_ **

Eliza gasped with his sudden bolt, up through the mansion he went, but no one knew, no one paid him any mind, for eyes were once again on her 

_As they should be._

The voices continued as he went, scrambling to find a safe room to stay in, a quiet, dark room. 

But they just got louder.

_**Ugly** _

_**Unwanted** _

_**Unneeded** _

_**Unloved** _

He began to break, sobbing screaming and kicking and screaming again, a pit of fire and demons robbing him of sanity at that moment.

Until he heard the rain and the thunder and the lightning.

The rain reminded him of the hurricane.

And he stopped.

And he shivered.

The voices were gone, replaced by a cold chill up his spine.

_Fear._

and then

_Delight._

Because he found himself in Peggy's room, her name written in bold letters on the doorframe.

He was not delighted to snoop, or to be a creep, but delighted because there was an amber dress in front of him that might fit.

And it did. 

And so did everything else.

He felt calm again.

But this time his strength came from not the clothes, but the color.

Why?

John's eyes

And that's when he knew what he had to do


End file.
